After the first night fireworks, the Festa di Sant’Agata continued for two more days, finally concluding at around 11am on 6 February. Last year I was impressed but cynical; this year I found it overwhelmingly poignant. That has much to … Continue reading
Image from Trimondi Viaggi There’s still an hour to go before the start of the concert and fireworks that mark the end of day one of the Festa di Sant’Agata, but we can’t even get close at the moment. We … Continue reading
“What are you doing?” shouts the old man at the fish market. “You’re painting the fish black! It’s a Mussolini fish!” Lucia, half-laughing and half-horrified, tries to quiet him down, but he’s having none of it. It’s about 9am and … Continue reading
The below account of what happened on 27 November 2011 was originally published on my now defunct Cowbird profile. At the time I needed to write about it, but didn’t want to rehash the details a million times with everyone … Continue reading
“Signora! Sig-NOR-a!” It’s the market trader’s call. It’s not directed at anyone in particular, as I thought when I first started going to La Fiera, as the daily market in Catania is known, but more a general call to arms. … Continue reading
As you walk around the Centro Storico of Catania, you may notice that many trattorie and restaurants have stone name plaques on their outside walls. The style is similar in each of them, with red and white colour schemes, but … Continue reading
“Look!” cries Lucia. “It’s a biscostoria!” True enough, there are the legends and history of Sicily spelled out in biscuits, with Greek columns and mermaids and fish and crowns – it’s a lovely little piece of whimsy. Sabrina, the person … Continue reading
The flute trills the opening bars of The Chinese Dance and Clem, Lucia and I all start to shake with suppressed laughter. It’s just as well we’re in a private box and not the stalls. We’re at Teatro Bellini listening … Continue reading
“So have you seen the elephant’s erection?” asks my flatmate Lucia. I gape at her, wondering if I’ve misheard. “What?!” She cackles at my expression. “OK, I was sitting in a cafe one day and was messing about with my … Continue reading
The little boy on the plastic tricycle stops outside the half-shuttered window. “Bello!” he roars. “Bellooooooo!” His mother shushes him. “Not like that. Call him gently.” The boy looks up, uncomprehending, before shouting again. His mother rolls her eyes, but … Continue reading
